It's Only Football
by Emony1
Summary: Almost a year on from It’s Only Tennis and Ray comes home to a similar scene.


Title: It's Only Football  
Author: Emony  
Rating: FRT  
Disclaimer: The names of characters contained herein are the property of the copyright holder of "ER." No infringements of these copyrights are intended, and said characters are used here without permission.  
Spoilers: Season 11 of the show.  
Series: It's Only Tennis, It's Only Football, A Night In, Lunch Break, The Perfect Night, Next of Kin, Dear Neela, Her.  
Summary: Almost a year on from It's Only Tennis and Ray comes home to a similar scene.  
Beta: Fi - thanks hon!

* * *

It was a little after 9am when a tired Ray dragged himself up the stairs to their apartment. Neela should have been fast asleep by now, having come off of a double shift only two hours previously. However, the shouts he'd heard from the street told him different. It immediately brought flashbacks to one of the most amazing days of his life - the day he finally got to kiss her. But that anniversary was still over two weeks away - sixteen days away to be precise. He still had time to order several cartons of strawberries from the guy a few blocks away, and stock up on cream and Pimm's for the full Wimbledon experience.

She'd sworn to him he'd only have to deal with it two weeks out of every year. _Not that it's any hardship, seeing her getting all riled up like that._ And no, there were no other sporting events out there that she was interested in. So what the hell was she up to? It was definitely her shouting this time, no chance of it being Tim and whatever bimbo of the week from across the way.

"That's bollocks and you know it!" The shout shook him from his reverie and he quietly entered the apartment.

"Bloody Sven! What does he know?" _Who the hell is Sven?_

"Downing? Pah!"

He stood in the doorway; it was eerie, so very similar, and yet so very different. Where was she getting all these flags from anyway? This time it was a St George's Cross around her shoulders as she jumped around shouting at what looked like - was that soccer? - on the TV.

"Neela, hon, what are you doing?" he asked, laughing.

"Oh! Ray!" She whirled to face him, "When did you get back?"

"Just now."

"Uh huh." Her eyes were back on the screen already. "Bloody wanker ref!"

"You're not a fan of officials in any sport, are you?"

"Not when they're so blatantly wrong, no. Especially this guy - " She waved a hand towards the screen, " - very biased."

He looked at the screen puzzled, "England v. Paraguay?"

"World Cup, Ray. I mentioned it last week."

"You did?"

"Uh huh." She muttered as she grabbed the bottle of Bud from the table in front of her.

He sat down and watched his girlfriend for a moment "Is this reminding you of anything?"

"Yup. And if you even think of nicking those Pringles, you'll regret it, Ray Barnett."

"Pringles?" His head shot up.

"Right where the strawberries were." She winked at him.

"In the fridge?" He asked, incredulously.

"On the floor by the couch." She sighed, rolling her eyes at him.

"So, do I have this to look forward to every year too?"

"No, Ray, just every four, or two if you count the Euro."

"The Eu- no, never mind."

He waited as she settled back into the game, following the ball across the screen, shouting at the referee again. Once he was sure she was engrossed he reached to the side of the sofa, carefully, and pulled some Pringles from the tube. He risked a look at Neela and rolled his eyes; she was still enthralled with the men in shorts. Bringing a crisp up to his mouth he looked at it, wondering how the hell he was going to eat it without her noticing.

"Even your mouth isn't big enough to fit it all in, Ray. Besides the crunch would give you away."

He spun back round to Neela; she was still watching the TV, a small smile on her face.

"Uh…"

"Don't even, Ray, don't even."

He shoved the chip in anyway and grabbed another. Maybe he could get out of this easily. He leaned toward Neela. She turned towards him, saw the chip in his hand and burst out laughing.

"Not quite strawberries and cream, is it?"

He grinned and fed it to her anyway. "Nope, but you're still grinning at me."

"I am." She leaned towards him, the grin changing to a smirk, and he leaned back onto the arm of the sofa.

"You scared, Barnett?"

"Of you, Rasgotra? Damn right I am."

"You better be." She laughed, her hair falling into his face as she did.

"Always." He answered, leaning up to catch her lips in his, but as he did so a loud roar came from the TV and Neela turned away.

Ray sighed, and Neela turned back, an embarrassed look on her face, almost as if she was trying to do something without wanting to.

Ray grinned, "Go on, say it, you know you want to."

She reached for the remote and turned off the TV. She stood and held out her hand, he put his hand in hers and felt her pull him from the sofa.

"It's only football." She announced, in between giggles, as she pulled him towards their room. "Only football."

As he followed willingly, Ray realised that he couldn't wait to see what she'd be like once Wimbledon had started too, knowing the two were sure to overlap at some point. Meanwhile, Neela was wondering how to break it to him that the last day of Wimbledon coincided with the World Cup final.

End Fic.


End file.
